


The Colour of Life

by susannah_wilde



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susannah_wilde/pseuds/susannah_wilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bits and pieces of Draco’s life woven together by the colour red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Colour of Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unbroken_halo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbroken_halo/gifts).



> **Author's Notes:** , it was a pleasure writing for you and I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to my beta, L, for all your help and since this fic been tweaked since then, all remaining mistakes are my own. Mods, thanks for hosting this fest. To all the readers, Merry Christmas!

Draco hates the colour red.

The colour red reminds Draco of his unhappy childhood. He thinks of his mother’s red, wet eyes after hours of arguing with Lucius whenever Draco misbehaves. Even in his room, he can hear words like _fragile, disgrace, weak_ come from his father’s mouth, but the one that hurts the most is _he is no son of mine_. Draco resolves to be better, to control his behaviour so that he can be brave for his mother’s sake. He tugs down on his long-sleeved shirt so that it hides the red and purple bruises on his skin that he receives as his punishment for venturing out into the Muggle world.

Hogwarts offers an escape from his childhood at the Manor and he’s relieved when his acceptance letter arrives in early June. Despite his misgivings about his father, as a Malfoy, Draco knows what Hogwarts house he’s destined to be Sorted into, so he plans accordingly. He orders his house-elf to remove every article of clothing that isn’t green, or neutral tones of blacks, whites, or greys, which leaves his wardrobe one-fifth of its original size. Still, he can’t complain as it gives him one last opportunity to spend a day alone with his mother as they shop in Diagon Alley.

Except Draco’s plans are foiled when his father announces one morning that he’s traveling to Diagon Alley with them. Some of the excitement deserts him, because under the watchful eye of his father, Draco has to make sure that no one knows his life is less than perfect. It makes buying his wand, a wizard’s most prized possession and the one thing he had been looking forward to, nerve-wracking. What if all the magical properties are wrong and he’s left with a subpar wand? He tries no less than sixteen wands, anxiety increasing with every flick, before a ten inch hawthorn wand with a unicorn hair core chooses him. Lucius Malfoy purchases the wand without any comment and is not impressed with the first spell Draco’s ever cast, _Lumos_. Even when Draco’s presented with an eagle owl with the command to “Become his master,” that doesn’t help ease his mind. At least now Draco will have a way to communicate with his mother.

By the time he enters Madam Malkin’s Robes shop, he’s too preoccupied with wishing this day would end to care about being polite. A boy enters the shop, in too-large clothes and messy hair, which Draco thinks he would fit right in with the Weasleys even if he doesn’t have red hair. A few minutes into the stilted conversation does Draco realise that while this wizard is Muggleborn and thus doesn’t deserve more attention, he does have the greenest eyes he’s ever seen and a curious lightning bolt-shaped scar hidden underneath that ridiculous hair.

When Draco leaves the shop, he mentions the boy to his mother, who turns pale for a moment before telling him to be quiet and to not tell his father. Surprised, Draco does as he’s told, but he can’t keep the image of how his single inquiry has affected his mother. It’s not until Draco’s reading one of his new textbooks does he figure out that he was talking to Harry Potter.

When he boards the Hogwarts Express, it doesn’t take long for him to seek out Harry Potter. He’s heard rumours that Potter’s in a compartment with the youngest Weasley son, and just the thought of the bright red hair and family full of Gryffindors makes him search faster. He doesn’t care for Potter’s fame, but he wants to be friends with this powerful wizard. Yet it only takes a few minutes and an off-handed remark to change the course of his young life. As he sits back down in the Slytherin compartment ignoring Pansy’s questions, he can feel the traces of Potter’s wild magic reaching out to him, but he’s too hurt and humiliated by Potter’s rejection of friendship to acknowledge it.

As the years pass Draco finds more reasons to hate the colour red. It’s the colour of Gryffindor, all bravery and honor, such utter shit when Draco knows all along that the only way to survive in this world is to look after oneself. The worst is how red reminds Draco of always being bested by Potter. The sight of Potter’s red Quidditch gear and the red glove that always manages to catch the Snitch right underneath his eyes infuriates Draco. And isn’t it always convenient that the Golden Trio, as he mockingly refers to them, always adds house points at the last minute so that Gryffindor always wins the House Cup.

The worst is yet to come during the summer before sixth year when colour red reminds Draco of how he lost his childhood innocence. That night in a ceremony attended only by the Dark Lord’s most trusted followers does Draco pledge his allegiance to a megalomaniac. He doesn’t hold back the tears as the Dark Mark is branded onto his skin, the red welts burning before turning black. When the pain becomes too much, Draco lets go and screams and begs for it to be over while the audience of Death Eaters laugh. When Draco finally looks up into those red eyes, he swears he dies a bit inside.

Life doesn’t stop and Draco’s too busy trying to complete the task the Dark Lord gave him that he loses interest in everything else. He wanders the castle at night to escape his fellow Slytherins, so it surprises him to see Potter doing the same. They play this game of cat and mouse but never actually manage to confront each other. Until one day Draco stumbles upon Potter and Weasley’s sister, his hands wrapped in her bright red hair, snogging as if there is no tomorrow. As far as Draco is concerned, his life might end soon and he feels something tugging at his heart. Draco refuses to admit that maybe all of those years of animosity and hate might be something different, but the thought is still planted in his mind.

The colour red reminds Draco of death and how much he hates Potter. He can still feel his skin slicing open and the blood seeping out as the pain prevents him from thinking clearly. Potter stands there, horrified, but not moving, which means there’s no one to help him. Meanwhile, Draco tastes the copper in his mouth and he thanks whatever higher being that at least the Dark Lord didn’t kill him. And then Snape arrives.

Draco’s childhood bruises come to mind when he sees how disfigured Potter’s face is at the Manor. It’s puffy and scarred, hardly recognizable, except for the green eyes that silently plead to not give him away. Aware that he’s on borrowed time, Draco stares back at Potter and for once in his miserable short life, Draco does the right thing and lies. To his own ears his words don’t sound convincing, but the look of gratitude is one that remains etched in his mind even when he’s thrown in the dungeons when Aunt Bella finds out his betrayal. Draco doesn’t regret his choice. After all, this is the only person who can defeat the Dark Lord.

Draco can forgive Potter for stealing his wand at the Manor if he makes it out of the Fiendfyre alive. He fears the bright scarlet and gold flames licking at his feet as he climbs higher over old furniture, books, and other artefacts, trying to evade the inferno that consumes everything. He’s alone and in the final moments of his life, he wishes that death will be quick because after hearing Crabbe’s screams of agony, he doesn’t think that his courage will hold much longer. His grip is slipping and he thinks _this is it_ until a pair of strong hands grab Draco and he is pulled away to safety.

Potter has saved him, but there is not enough time to dwell on that fact because the screams and deaths and blood he sees in the courtyard reminds Draco that he is caught in the middle of a war. Although his mother finds him and pleads with him to defect, Draco says no. He will stay there and fight, will see this to the end no matter the consequences. In staying, Draco is there to witness the red flash of the Disarming Spell that defeats the Dark Lord. Draco, as well as many others, watches as the _Expelliarmus_ spell takes control of the duel, forcing the bright green _Avada Kedavra_ curse upon its caster. It almost feels anti-climactic, but Draco doesn’t care as long as the bastard is dead.

The end of the war signifies a change for Draco. The many years of actively disliking the man leaves Draco a bit wary when Potter speaks for his mother and Draco at the war trials. Upon hearing his actions at the Manor being described as heroic or how his mother helped save Potter’s life, Draco thinks it’s time to put away childish behaviour and make an effort to know his former enemy. He signs up for the Auror programme and hopes it’s a good start.

On the first day of Auror training when they are paired up alphabetically and Potter is his partner, which sends Weasley into a fit, Draco almost quits. It’s not that he minds the idea, because then it would give him a chance to hex and curse Potter as they train. No, his dilemma is that they are also roommates. Draco doesn’t think that he can be in such close proximity to Potter without bringing up the dormant feelings from sixth year. As much as he hates to do it, the best thing would be to keep his emotions in check and try not to get close to Potter.

His resolve doesn’t last long. Long past midnight, Draco sees how Potter thrashes uncontrollably in bed as he is haunted by his nightmares, and Draco is almost afraid to wake him up. He makes him tea and brings it to him, which Potter accepts. They sit in the dark watching shadows dance on the wall until Potter apologises, his voice raw and scratchy after screaming so much. Draco tells him to go back to sleep and that everything will be better in the morning.

After that night they become friends, seven years later, but still friends.

Once Draco and Potter complete Auror training, Head Auror Robards decides to keep them together as partners and they share one of the biggest offices at the Ministry. They spend most of their days out on the field solving cases, and only rarely do they have time to sit down at their desks to complete paperwork. At night when Draco returns to the empty flat he purchased in London, he finds that he misses Potter’s constant presence, even if he was a terrible roommate and wouldn’t allow a house-elf to clean. It’s only a minor consolation when he buys a crup to help fill the void.

Draco’s on assignment with another Auror, a rookie with a name he’s not bothered to remember, when he’s attacked and has to be rushed to St Mungo’s. His diagnosis of a broken left arm means it’s just an overnight stay while his bones are regrown and he falls asleep as soon as a Sleeping Potion is administered. He dreams of Potter being by his side and taking care of him. He’s not too ashamed to admit that, but when morning comes and Draco wakes up in an empty room, he’s disappointed.

Despite his protests, Robards orders Draco to stay at his desk and be a parchment pusher for a week as a precaution. He takes his cup of tea and goes to his office where he finds Potter with sleep-deprived red eyes, rumpled clothes, and the faint smell of firewhisky lingering around his body. Draco can’t help but think that the reason Potter looks such a mess is that he stayed out late celebrating his last day on holiday. Draco ignores him and sits down, suddenly finding the paperwork fascinating. 

However, this peace only lasts for a few moments as Potter has taken to pacing the room and sighing. Potter only does it when he’s trying to intimidate a suspect or he's nervous about something. Still, it drives Draco mad enough to say, “What do you want, Potter?”

The answer is immediate and not what Draco expects.

“Willyougooutwithme?”

This question is rushed and while Draco is deciphering it, he’s treated to a blush blossoming on Potter’s face. Now Draco wonders how much Potter has had to drink in order to say things Draco has only ever dreamed about.

“What?”

“Go out with me. Last night when I visited you-“

“No, that was a dream. No one was there.” He picks up his quill again and continues to write until Potter stands in front of him and places his hands on Draco’s desk. His fingernails have jagged ends as if they’ve been chewed on for quite some time.

Potter clears his throat again and says, “It wasn’t a dream. I was there.”

At this information, Draco looks up from the report he’s writing and gives Potter a wary glance. Potter stares back and there is such intensity in those green eyes that Draco doesn’t question the other man’s words. That still doesn’t explain Potter’s original question.

“Why?”

“Because I’m an idiot. It took me seeing you in a hospital bed to let me know how much I would miss you if you were not in my life.” Potter is now chewing on his bottom lip, but his gaze never falters.

Draco tries to sneer, but it’s a half-hearted attempt. “If I hadn’t been injured, you never would have asked?”

Potter pulls back as if he’s been slapped. “No! I would have asked you out eventually, talked myself into it because I’m crap at relationships and didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but the intent was always there. Is still there.” He reaches across the desk and takes hold of Draco’s hand.

“Trust me.”

Draco is terrified of that thought, but he does trust him.

Draco takes a chance and begins to date Potter as soon as he’s assigned a new Auror partner. The best dates are when they stay at Potter’s flat, because at the end of the night, he’s pleasantly sore with all the attention and tenderness lavished on him. These are a sign of love, Draco’s mind tells him, and not the red marks of abuse that were present from childhood.

It’s Valentine’s Day and Draco sits in one of the finest restaurants in Muggle London. In the past, Harry and he would mock the holiday as Single Awareness Day and celebrate by drowning their sorrows at the Leaky Cauldron. However, this restaurant rivals Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop on how garish their decorations are: pink and red heart balloons and ribbons hang from the ceilings and windows, while the fragrance of roses fills the air. Draco doesn’t mind as this is one of the few days of the year when he can forgive Harry for being a sap. 

When the waiter comes to their private booth with the wine, Harry looks at him expectantly, and as they toast being together for thirteen years, Draco takes a sip of the red wine and chokes. His vision blurs and he’s gasping for breath, reaching out but finding nothing. It is through the help of Harry’s hidden wand that Draco spits out a gold ring. It lands on the floor and after a long pause, Harry, still wide-eyed, reaches down and picks up the ring. Before he can put it in his pocket, Draco says yes, he’ll marry him, with the agreement that they never mention this incident again, choosing to tell people Harry proposed in France.

They settle down and move into their own proper house in the countryside where every morning, as he watches the sunrise paint the sky red and gold, Draco feels at peace. He realises this the first time he gazed down at his newborn son, while Harry is resting on the hospital bed. The baby’s skin is splotchy red but Draco thinks his son is perfect, for he is a labour of love and nothing can take this away from Draco.

**Author's Note:**

> You can leave a comment here or [on Livejournal](http://hd-erised.livejournal.com/6971.html).


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